Strangers
by ShatteredLyre
Summary: He traces constellations aimlessly in the sky, in the air, on her arm and says it is fate. She just looks at him, shakes her head, and smirks and tells him it is merely coincidence. --For Lycoris Calantha--


**dedicated to: Lycoris Calantha. happy belated birthday! :)**

**try reading this while listening to "Home" by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros: **www . youtube . com / watch?v=rjFaenf1T-Y

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**Funbari Hill City Park**

_From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia_

Funbari Hill City Park was established in the early 20th century after a decades-old property battle ceased when parties in question, Marco D'Fer and Luchist Lasso, met to negotiate. The two decided on dedicating the territory in contest to a city park, letting all of Funbari Hill enjoy the land of their ancestors as a symbol of the opposing sides' truce. The Bridging Bench, a regionally renowned landmark, was built to commemorate the "bridging of two warring families into a part of greater, happier community," D'Fer said of the event. He goes on to state—

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**The Romanticists Got It All Wrong**

**Posted by **_**MunzerMassacre**_** at **_**1:07 PM 04.21.10**_

I'm supposedly supposed to be in the relatively famous Funbari Hill City Park. I'm supposedly supposed to be writing a fictional piece for my creative writing class that incorporates some sort of historical reference or event into my story. I'm supposedly supposed to be getting inspired by the rolling green lawns, the mosaic fields of flowers and their vibrant hues, the curtain of trees dotting the cityscape in the distance, their branches reaching up to the sky in their summer glory.

_Supposedly_.

Nature sucks. Period. How Thoreau and Emerson did it, I will never know. Going out to live amongst nature and be all Zen and crap and meditate and reflect on humanity in the middle of the effin' WOODS. Give me an air conditioned room, a nice wooden desk, and lots of food and I'll be able to write endlessly.

But no.

Of course, freakin' Prof. Umemiya decided that that wasn't enough. That he had to enhance the writing process by forcing us to go out to the historical landmark of the event we're writing about to be inspired.

_Inspired_. I never thought that he went back to normal ever since that…spiritual pilgrimage…he went on with Dr. Sati. Technically, I'm supposed to be writing my narrative just about now but I'm not getting any INSPIRATION.

This is what I have so far. Ready? Doesn't matter. This is what I have, copied and pasted from my word document:

…………………………………

Munzer Redseb

ID: 2102547

Professor Umemiya

Creative Writing 101

21 April 2010

Title: ??????????!!!!!!!!!!!//////

Historical Landmark: what what what what

Word Count: BIG FAT ZERO…plus one

Stylistic Choice (optional): I DON'T KNOW STOP INTERROGATING ME

The

…………………………………

Yes, that's right people; Redseb, _the_ Redseb, who people complain never shuts up, never stops writing, never stops yammering has finally met his match. The Moriarti to my Sherlock Holmes. The Darth Vader to my Luke Skywalker. The mental instability to my Hamlet. The Gary to my Ash.

Breaking news: I was only able to write one, singular word. A very profound word. The. _The._ I've been sitting here for nearly three hours and all I've been able to write is _The_.

The gods are out to get me. So is Prof. Umemiya. He's never liked me ever since I caught him making out with a photograph of Prof. Tao. Poor Jun. Poor me. Poor Word document that will never turn into a semi-historical narrative.

— Redseb Munzer

_subscribe to MunzerMassacre's blog posts!_

_**mood**_: irritated

_**location**_: effin' Funbari Hill City Park that I want to SET ON FIRE NOW

_**listening to**_: the annoying, disgusting drone of mosquitoes as they conspire how to suck my blood and infuriate me endlessly until I go insane and have to be committed to a mental institution

**leave a comment**

**

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**University of Tokyo's Webmail Inbox—Bringing Students Together!

You have **1 new message!**

**From**: "Seyram" [seyrammunzer12]

**To**: "Redseb" [redsebmunzer10]

**Date**: Tues, Apr 21, 2010 at 1:13 PM

**Subject**: How am I related to you?

I refuse to call you my brother. Nevertheless, the fact that I know you does allow me to read your endlessly entertaining "blog posts" which come out as whiny, immature rants. Stop complaining and just write the damn thing already!

Love,

Your adoring sister

— _**Seyram Munzer —**_

_**

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**_**From**: "Redseb" [redsebmunzer10]

**To**: "Seyram" [seyrammunzer12]

**Date**: Tues, Apr 21, 2010 at 1:16 PM

**Subject**: GO AWAY

why are you even here? go away. i'm trying to write. and it's not my fault the stupid park is absolutely failing at inspiring me right now. also, why the hell are you subscribing to my blog posts. those are PRIVATE.

go away seyram,

your very annoyed brother

— _**Redseb Munzer —**_

_**

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**_**From**: "Seyram" [seyrammunzer12]

**To**: "Redseb" [redsebmunzer10]

**Date**: Tues, Apr 21, 2010 at 1:20 PM

**Subject**: If only…

Shouldn't your messages be capitalized properly considering…oh, I don't know, maybe because you are a creative writing major? Just a thought. Anyways, I just wanted to thank you. My entire journalism class does indeed enjoy reading your "PRIVATE" thoughts. That you post on the internet. For the _world_ to see.

Anyways, Dr. Sati took us to the park today to write an article on it. Unlike you, I've been here for less than an hour, managed to read your little sob story on your "PRIVATE" journal, shared your angry little post with my classmates, and I'm nearly finished with my assignment.

Love,

Your amused sister

— _**Seyram Munzer —**_

_**

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**_**From**: "Redseb" [redsebmunzer10]

**To**: "Seyram" [seyrammunzer12]

**Date**: Tues, Apr 21, 2010 at 1:22 PM

**Subject**: …

i hate you

LEAVE ME ALONE,

your extremely irked brother

— _**Redseb Munzer —**_

_**

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**_**From**: "Seyram" [seyrammunzer12]

**To**: "Redseb" [redsebmunzer10]

**Date**: Tues, Apr 21, 2010 at 1:29 PM

**Subject**: A helping hand

**Seyram Munzer** has sent you a link!

Click me!

Love,

Your boundlessly generous sister

— _**Seyram Munzer —**_

_**

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**_**Funbari Hill Underground**: _your source for all urban legends!_

The Bridging Bench: Fact or Crap?

By Oyamada Manta (_oyamadashortie21_)

Everyone knows Funbari Hill City Park right? And of course the strikingly boring bench—the so called "Bridging Bench"—that graces its perfectly manicured fields?

We've all been there, we've all frolicked in the grass, played on the playground, and picked at the flowers until the park security yelled at us when our teachers took us to that gigantic park back when we were trying fry bugs with magnifying glasses and picking scabs on our knees in grade school. (Because we'd totally retain what they were saying, rather tearfully, about our proud and humble beginnings of our city district at the tender age of six, right? No.) And then, the pinnacle of the whole field trip, the climax, the main attraction: The Bridging Bench!

...What a crappy field trip. The image that most people call to mind when they hear "The Bridging Bench" is a slab of wood. Propped up on two rocks. With gum, graffiti, and vandalism all over it.

The pride and joy of the entire district.

But what most people _don't_ know about this bench is the urban legend behind it. Yes people, Oyamada has once again managed to make gold out of garbage! I somehow found out about an urban legend that relates to the seemingly boring choice of seating.

Apparently, legend says, the bench has some sort of force...somewhat like fate; it has managed to reunite lovers, family members, long lost friends...Sounds too vague to be true? Well, in any case, the rest of the legend goes, once you share the bench with someone else, you two are fated to be in each other's lives for eternity.

I hope that I never share the bench with my high school biology teacher.

People who have shared the bench with someone else swear that that incident has impacted their lives, bridging their lives with whoever they had happened to sit next to.

Hence, the name of "The Bridging Bench"

— Oyamada

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University of Tokyo's Webmail Inbox—Bringing Students Together!

**From**: "Redseb" [redsebmunzer10]

**To**: "Seyram" [seyrammunzer12]

**Date**: Tues, Apr 21, 2010 at 1:47PM

**Subject**: Helping hand acknowledged...and begrudgingly appreciated

...I hate to say it, but thanks. I owe you one.

— _**Redseb Munzer —**_

_**

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**_**From**: "Seyram" [seyrammunzer12]

**To**: "Redseb" [redsebmunzer10]

**Date**: Tues, Apr 21, 2010 at 1:51 PM

**Subject**: As per usual!

My goodness, you're utilizing correct capitalization! What a rarity. Someone alert the presses and take down the date and time.

And you can pay me back by buying me dinner at Peyote's later. I'm in the mood for Mexican food (and am also out of money).

Love,

Your amazing sister

— _**Seyram Munzer —**_

_**

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**_Munzer Redseb

ID: 2102547

Professor Umemiya

Creative Writing 101

21 April 2010

Title: Strangers, A Paradox Told in Three Parts

Historical Landmark: The Bridging Bench--Funbari Hill City Park

Word Count: 4,064

Stylistic Choice (optional): Variant

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**ACT ONE**  
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_He told her he loved her. She just looked at him and shook her head and smirked and said he was a paradox told in three parts._

"Norepinephrine is released from the adrenal medulla into the blood as a hormone, directly increasing heart rate, triggering the release of glucose from energy stores, and increasing--"

"Anna, what are you doing?"

"--and increasing blood flow to skeletal muscle, effects that are associated with--"

"Anna, come on don't be like--"

"Excuse me."

"Yeah?"

"I was told never to talk to strangers."

"....You're _still_ on that? Come on!"

"And now you exhale and roll your eyes just as with the rest of the world."

"You know something?"

"What, Asakura Yoh? What could you possibly enlighten me with?"

"I'm never going to understand you."

"Feeling's mutual."

"Okay, so what if the last time we talked to each other was when we were ten? That _doesn't_ make us strangers, Anna."

"Hm."

"And you come to mom's New Years party every single year!"

"Mm."

"I give up...What are you reading?"

"Nothing that would interest you."

"You never know."

"Trust me, I know."

"Please?"

"I'm studying for my psychobiology midterm that is coming up, specifically concerning the chemical reactions and the physiological effects that ensue when one feels fear, anxiety and..."

"And...?"

"Love."

"..._What_."

"Is there a problem, Asakura?"

"Love? Really? You can't quantify love or...or...simplify it down to some chemical equation."

"Yes you can."

"No you can't!"

"And why not?"

"Because it's...it's...it's...I mean, it's so...wrong."

"..._What_."

"Love isn't supposed to be quantifiable or describable. Even the finest writers and poets are barely even able to scratch the surface of describing love--"

"Hm. Spoken like a true music major."

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. In any case, it doesn't matter whether the great thinkers and philosophers and writers of the ages can or cannot put love into words because my biology text says it can so therefore, it can. Now, shush if you're going to be here."

"Why are you studying in the _park_?"

"I give up. I'm putting this back into my bag since you're so keen on talking to me--"

"You're studying in Funbari Hill City Park. At eight in the evening."

"So? You're passing judgment on me?"

"Nah, just interesting is all."

"Funny. Then it seems we have vastly different standards and definitions of what constitutes 'interesting.'"

"Let's pretend I understood that...Hey, we're sitting on The Bridging Bench. Do you know the story behind it?"

"No."

"Do you want to hear it? It's interesting."

"No...God, Asakura. Exactly what were Kino and Yohmei smoking when they arranged for _us_ to be married?"

"Why?"

"We are so different, even at the basic fundamentals. Even though I've known you for years--"

"Ten years."

"--you still are a veritable stranger to me."

"...You're...you're exaggerating."

"We have absolutely _nothing_ in common."

"Again, you're exaggerating! We have to have _something_ in common."

"Like what exactly?"

"Okay...um...what's that?"

"What are you...Oh, this? ...You're seriously going to try to make _this_ a common thread we share."

"What is it?"

"_Thus Spoke Zarathustra_."

"Sounds...interesting."

"It's by Friedrich Nietzsche."

"Er...alright...?"

"He was one of the pioneering existentialists and philosophers of the nineteenth century."

"Okay."

"Do you want to talk about it? Since, you know, _you_ of all people probably would've read it."

"Um...wait..."

"In his novel, Nietzsche proposed the concept of the _Übermensch_, which is essentially at the most basic level, the ever idealistic goal of perfection in what it means to be human. However, no man has ever attained the status of the _Übermensch_ and perhaps in a way, Nietzsche is suggesting that no one is supposed to attain it. Since we are all constantly working towards the development level of the _Übermensch, _we are continuously trying to better ourselves and in the process, making progress. Interestingly enough, _Zarathustra_ also entails Nietzsche's famous, and more often than not, taken out of context phrase and idea that God is dead. Though many uninformed ignoramuses are intent on blasting Nietzsche as some God forsaken, blasphemous heretical atheist, Nietzsche simply meant in this concept that--"

"Okay, okay. I get your point. You're a philosophy minor while I'm...not."

"Yes and no. Though it is true that I am minoring in philosophy, _Thus Spoke Zarathustra_ is not part of the course syllabus this semester for me."

"Wait...so then...Holy crap."

"'Holy crap' indeed. I'm reading it for pure enjoyment. Because this is what I find interesting."

"But this is hardly a basis to say that we have nothing in common. Big deal, so you like reading existentialist literature while I like to play the guitar. That doesn't mean we're not compatible."

"Again, I do not talk to strangers. Now if you'll excuse me...what...what are you doing..."

"Offering my hand out in a greeting. In many cultures, I do believe that it is a traditional social gesture to shake another person's hand upon meeting each other for the first time...or something."

"What--"

"Come on, shake my hand!"

"Why?"

"Never mind that. Hi, I'm Yoh."

"But...I already know you..."

"No. See that's where you, grandma, grandpa and everyone else are wrong. You know Asakura Yoh, heir to the Asakura legacy, your fiancee. You don't know just...Yoh. Me. You don't know _me_. You know everything _about_ me but you don't really know _me_. Does that make sense?"

"In an illogical logical sort of way...yes."

"Then, okay! I'm Yoh. Nice to meet you. I like playing the guitar. I think that it should be the law to take a few minutes out of every day to slow down and just talk and de-stress with your friends. I love listening to music and sleeping and I'm a sophomore at the University of Tokyo. Oh and my grandparents set me up in an arranged marriage when I was ten years old to some random girl who I never even knew existed before. She thinks I'm pretty weird and probably dumb but I really want to get to know her and to let her get to know me 'cause I think we can make it work."

"Well...then...It's a pleasure to meet you...somewhat. I'm...this is silly. Fine. I'm Anna. I like reading about existentialism. I like to be pretentious and drink my pretentious non-Starbucks coffee and sit in pretentious cafes with my pretentious non-brand clothes and listen to pretentious music...and I'm damn proud of it and it is my absolute favorite thing to do. I'm studying to become a psychiatrist. I _say _that I think that love can be quantified but what I exactly _believe_...I'm not so sure. I like watching _enka_ singers on the television but no one knows that. I'm a sophomore as well at the University of Tokyo. And...what a coincidence...I was _also_ set up in an arranged marriage when I was ten. I thought he was weird and crazy at first but after meeting him for the first time two minutes ago...He isn't that bad."

"'He isn't that bad.' That's a start. It definitely is a start. Cool."

"Didn't your mother ever tell you to not talk to strangers? Especially in the middle of an abandoned park. Sitting on a crappy bench. Past eight at night?"

"What's the use...Where's the fun if you don't take a chance?"

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**ACT TWO**

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_He traces constellations aimlessly in the sky, in the air, on her arm and says it is fate. She just looks at him and shakes her head and smirks and says it is a coincidence._

"God, can this day get _any_ hotter?" Yoh asks, fanning his sweating face with his hand as he slumps over on the bench. "It's like hell on earth right now…"

"I know, tell me about it," Anna says offhandedly as she frowns in disapproval at the play structure they were facing. More specifically, at the infestation of shrieking, devilish five year olds who were housed in the play structure. "How does she manage?"

"Eh? What are you talking about?"

"That poor woman. She undoubtedly is paid minimum wage to watch after those demon spawn," Anna observes as said poor woman chases after several of the children.

"Maybe she likes kids? Who knows," Yoh says, shrugging.

Anna snorts. "Please. Who would in their right mind look after someone else's kids? Especially the offspring of complete strangers who don't give a damn if you are able to pay your rent or tuition."

"Children aren't _that_ bad…" Yoh says slowly. He smiles as he watches one of the boys help a little girl stand up after she had fallen. "Anyways, this is nice…"

"What is?"

"Taking time out of our respective days…to get to know each other…talk…"

She quirks an eyebrow as she turns to face him. "The only reason we're out right now is because Keiko, you know, your _mother_, mandated that we finally go out on a proper date after ten years of knowing each other."

"…Yes…that's nice too." He stretches out. "But, I mean, how perfect, right? She basically ordered us to go to Funbari Hill City Park which is where we had our first real conversation, remember?"

"It was only a few weeks ago. My memory isn't that terrible," she informs him snippily.

"We're even sitting on the Bridging Bench! Maybe it's fate…" His voice trails off, his eyes brightening.

She scoffs. "Don't tell me you believe in that New Age, mumbo jumbo crap—" He stares at her in disbelief. "Do I look like the kind of person who would believe in fate?" After seeing him look blankly at her, she sighs. "No, I don't. I believe in coincidence."

He shakes his head emphatically. "How can you _not_ believe in fate?"

"How _can_ you?" she fires back, slightly amused at how worked up he's getting.

"So you're telling me that if I hadn't been born into the Asakura family or if Kino had adopted another kid than you or if some other clan had offered their daughter's hand in marriage just a few days earlier or if I hadn't gone out to the park in the middle of mom's party to find you and had instead stayed in and ate food like I usually did every year or if you didn't have a psychobiology midterm or a penchant for studying in the middle of public parks at night, then we never would've _really_ met. _All_ those factors had to line up perfectly and you're labeling it a coincidence?"

She pauses. She mulls it over. She thinks about it. "Yes, that is exactly what I'm doing."

He groans but is smiling. "Still ever an enigma."

"Mystery always keeps a relationship interesting," she replies deadpan.

"Practically still a stranger too…"

She rolls her eyes and smacks him in the arm. "You deserved that."

He laughs and straightens up to fend off anymore blows she might deliver. "So then, you've heard my take on fate. What's yours?"

She sighs as if the entire world is much too troublesome for her liking. "Why does everything have to be…fated? Why do we believe in the concept of a soul mate? How do we know that we're with _the one_ if we stop looking after we encounter who we perceive to _the one_? How do we know whoever we might have bumped into at the coffee shop or the new intern who arrives at the office or the kid who asks to borrow a pencil from you during class will not be a better significant other? The answer: we don't."

"Should I be concerned?" he jokes. She continues prodding him in the arm until he settles back down.

"Anyways, I don't know how people can continue living with the mentality that we have only one other person out there who can make us happy, who will love us to the full extent we are supposed to be loved, who is compatible with us. Everything is simply a coincidence; we just dupe ourselves into thinking that there is someone out there who was created for the soul purpose of being our other half."

They both pause for a moment to watch the formerly harassed woman round up all of her children before heading back to the local daycare. The boy who Yoh had watched earlier is talking to another girl, blissfully ignoring the angry stares of the girl he had helped before.

"There is an experiment that a scientist had conducted before. An elaborate box was constructed and a cat was placed inside of it. He designed the box so that when the lid is opened, a poisonous vial would emit a gas and thus kill the cat. Whether the poison is activated is based completely on chance, on a string of random numbers generated by a computer. There is no way to accurately know the status of the animal. Is it alive? Is it dead? The only way to know is to open the box. Nothing is certain until it happens."

Yoh watches as the last of the preschoolers disappear behind the grove of trees at the bend of the pathway. "So…we're…what we have isn't certain?" he asks quietly.

The corners of her lips tug up a bit. "I'd like to think that we've already happened."

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**ACT THREE**

-------------

_He asked her if they had met before. She just looked at him and shook her head and smirked._

Asakura Hana knew no rules. Heck, he didn't need them. He was seven (freakin') years old after all; he could handle himself. Though that never stopped Tamao from repeating almost mechanically her three cardinal rules that came attached with allowing Hana to go to the park. He knew all the rules by heart. He could recite them, eyes closed while jumping up and down on one leg.

It didn't matter though if he didn't follow them.

_Rule one: Don't leave the onsen without Tamao's permission_.

He grinned as he realized it was too late as he snuck out the back door and skipped down the sidewalk to the park, humming a song happily to himself.

_Rule two: Don't hang upside down from the top bar of the swing set._

He regretfully pondered the second rule as he stared upwards at the sky, blinking bright lights from his eyes that had been plaguing him since he had fallen from said top bar of the swing set. He managed however to limp over to a nearby bench, sprawling out over its length as he tended to a swollen bump on his head. Perhaps, Tamao's rules had some sort of merit.

He snorted before shaking his head. Yeah, right.

_Rule three: Don't, under _any_ circumstances talk to strangers._

He grumbled and cursed the bright sun and hot weather. A woman sitting next to him who he hadn't noticed when he had thrown himself on top of the bench turned to him and agreed.

Hana simply blinked back at her and considered Tamao's third rule as the lady gave a half-smile.

The woman simply shrugged at Hana's reluctance to talk to her, saying that she _was_ merely a stranger after all. She didn't blame him for not wanting to speak to her.

He squinted at her long and hard while she was looking in the opposite direction. He suddenly asked if he knew her from somewhere. He could've sworn that…

Her lips form a firm line as she resolutely sweeps her head from side to side. He was probably mistaking her for someone else, she concluded.

Hana frowned, still thinking in the back of his mind that he _did_ know her from somewhere. He was jolted out of his speculations by a disposable plastic cup of ice being shoved in his face. The woman shook the cup enticingly, saying that from the looks of it, he needed it more than she did.

Hana, his face reddening, took the ice from the cup and pressed it against the sore flesh on his scalp, feeling the melting water run through his fingers.

The lady tucked a long strand of blond hair behind her ears as she surveyed the damage Hana had sustained from his fall from the top of the swings. She asked if his parents didn't teach him better than to hang upside down, without holding onto anything, from the highest point of the play structure.

Hana automatically replied that he never knew his parents, confident in the fact that it would make her shut up. Saying that he didn't know his parents usually made grown-ups shut up despite the fact that in reality, it was only half true since Tamao was his mom and he only didn't know who his dad was so—

Well, that was one thing they had in common, the lady said without missing a beat. She didn't know her parents either.

He pursed his lips together, moving the slushy ice from one hand to another. It wasn't his fault, he proclaimed, that the swings were so darn dangerous.

The woman smiled and nodded as if to agree. She told him that she remembered the days when one could go about their daily business without having to fear any attacks from ever-so-dangerous swing sets and monstrous slides and hostile monkey bars.

He tilted his head to the side as he got a very vague feeling that she was making fun of him.

In all seriousness however, she told him of when she was growing up. When it was safe to send your ten year old daughter to the marketplace by herself and not have to worry if she would ever return in one piece. When it was common enough to send your young son on a train by himself from one province to another and expect him back for tomorrow's supper.

Hana raised his eyebrows, surprised that there ever existed a time as safe as that.

She looked amused at his facial expression. Now children couldn't even go to their next door neighbor's house without any sort of accompaniment. Now strangers were suspected to have the worst intentions always.

Hana laughed as he remembered the sternness with which Tamao had always reminded him of the third rule.

He wondered out loud if it really was ever that safe to talk to strangers.

She gave her affirmation, citing how people could chat with strangers like they were their best friends since kindergarten. Now everyone was expected to keep to themselves.

He turned to her asked if she thought that it would ever go back to like when she was growing up. If people would ever start talking to each other again, no matter if they were strangers or not.

She smirked and said that that was exactly what they were doing now.

He broke into a wide smile as he wiped his freezing wet hands on his shorts, the ice having long ago melted.

She observed out loud that they were sitting on the (in)famous Bridging Bench.

He quickly interjected that he _totally_ learned about that at school.

She crossed her arms in front of her and teasingly asked him to tell her exactly what he knew about it.

He looked skywards as he struggled to remember what the handout his teacher had given his class had said about the Funbari Hill City Park landmark. His face lit up as he recalled what the legend was: that whichever two people shared the bench will find themselves inevitably intertwined in each other's lives for the rest of time.

He could've sworn that the woman's face fell for a split second, sadness grazing her features before her eyes snapped back up at him. Did he believe in the legend?

The question caught him off guard. He stuttered out that, yeah, why not, it seemed like a pretty cool idea. Fate and destiny and stuff like that.

He was about to start asking the lady another question, since she was admittedly the most interesting person he had ever met, when his name rang out sharp, frenzied and worried from across the park. Both he and the woman turned to see the source of the voice as Tamao came rushing towards them.

Tamao immediately began chastising Hana about not following her rules _again_ and such before she abruptly cut herself off as she saw the woman who Hana had been talking to earlier.

Hana found it rather odd that Tamao's voice became quiet as she told him to go home.

As soon as the boy had disappeared from sight, Tamao asked the woman what she was thinking, coming back here and inserting herself in Hana's life.

The woman simply stared back into Tamao's eyes and asked if it really were that much of a crime to want to talk to her own son.

She told Anna to stop before someone got hurt.

Anna frowned at Tamao, asking exactly who exactly would get hurt. Hana would find out sooner or later that Tamao wasn't his real mother right when Anna and Yoh officially moved back to Japan—

It wasn't the boy who was going to hurt, Tamao said mechanically. It was Anna who was going to suffer.

Anna narrowed her eyes at her, glaring at Tamao and asked what she meant.

Tamao refused to look at her. To Anna, Hana was her son, her life. But to Hana, Anna, as far as he was concerned, was a stranger. Just a stranger who didn't matter in the greater scheme of things, in his life, and she will find herself forgotten in a matter of a few days. But more painfully, Hana wouldn't recognize her as his mother when she finally moved back to Japan with Yoh.

She would always, first and foremost, be a stranger to him.

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**END**

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_We are all strangers. We are all paradoxes told in three parts._

_And yet I...I think that we have the capacity to love each other. This I believe._

* * *

**A/N**: again, happy birthday, lycoris calantha! i tried to write this in time for your birthday though I'm afraid I'm a bit late :/ oh well, anyways, I know that this is very highly stylized so I'm pretty sure a lot of people probably won't be too crazy about it but whatever. I'd like to hear what you thought so **please leave a review**! and check out my other story _Testimonies_. :)

and for those interested in a **Shaman King Fanfic contest**, please go here for the contest details/info: shatteredlyre .livejournal .com/10670 . html (remove spaces)

PS: erratic updates for the next couple of weeks until around May 10 or so (due to AP tests)--check me out at my LJ for fanfic progress during this time!


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